


p.s. i love you

by lovebrd



Series: paper hearts [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Drama, Love Letters, M/M, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Time Skip, Romance, SUPER BRIEF but it's there., Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), VERY SLIGHT implications of dimilix, also stuff during the timeskip but it's small, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebrd/pseuds/lovebrd
Summary: Writing a love letter to Dimitri in the library at 3am is both Ashe's worst mistake & the best thing he ever did.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Series: paper hearts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589236
Comments: 13
Kudos: 192





	p.s. i love you

Ashe’s pace is slightly frantic as he bursts out of his dorm room door and sprints across the monastery grounds. It’s very rare for him to sleep in. In fact, he rarely sleeps at all, always tossing and turning in bed due to his own worries and of course the nightmares. Though frankly it feels as if he’s in a nightmare right now, not even completely dressed in his uniform as he trips over his own feet trying to make it to class on time. To put it frankly, he looks like an outright disaster, clad in only his dark hoodie and uniform shorts as he hastily tries to put on his boots while running ( as expected this does not go well as he face plants on the hard stone pathway after a few moments of hopping around on foot. Curse his clumsiness ). 

By some chance miracle he manages to make it to class before the professor had arrived. Though this wasn’t entirely surprising considering Professor Byleth is hardly an orderly person. Again Ashe comes to wonder just how they managed to get a teaching position here. But he’s not really one to question others’ judgement, especially those of the archbishop who is significantly above him in status and rank. In any case he’s somewhat grateful for the professor’s less than ideal habits especially in times like these when he finds himself tardy. 

Though Ashe does find himself uncomfortably aware that he is the last of his house to arrive to class this morning. The rest of the blue lions are all scattered around the classroom though notably Ashe’s gaze finds his highness first. Well truthfully that’s always been the case. After all it is quite unusual for people like him to be in the company of royalty every day. Ashe would daresay it took several months for him to get accustomed to it. Not to mention Dimitri himself requesting _several times_ that Ashe stop behaving so formally around him. Now that it’s reached the first week of the Red Wolf Moon, Ashe can confidently say he’s managed to treat Dimitri more casually with some slip ups here and there. Most notably he still finds himself struggling to address him without his title naturally. He figures it’ll just take some getting used to. 

He’s hastily running a hand through his hair as he enters, remembering he hadn’t had time to brush it this morning ( not that this really matters as his hair is something akin to a birds nest at all times ) as he steps into the classroom. It’s then that he notices Dimitri or rather notices the uncomfortable expression on his handsome features. Also worth noting is the pigmentation of the prince’s cheeks. The whole scenario is quite strange to Ashe in all honesty. He can’t recall if he’s ever seen Dimitri looking so heartily embarrassed. As he takes a few cautious steps forward the conversation between Dimitri and Sylvain answers his question almost immediately. 

“Aw, come on this can’t be the first time someone’s written you a love letter? You’re the prince there’s no way your desk isn’t swamped with gooey confession letters.” Sylvain speaks as he often does, with a lighthearted air that somehow always feels slightly insincere. It’s met with a careless smile as he continues to affectionately tease his childhood friend. As expected Dimitri does not look amused. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Sylvain. Now can we please drop this? The professor should be arriving any moment.”

“Love letter?” pipes up Ashe, raising an eyebrow as he finally manages to get his uniform shirt on over his hoodie. 

Dimitri lets out a pained sigh as Sylvain saunters towards Ashe. “That’s right. Annette and I found it in the trash while cleaning the library last night.”

The words make Ashe’s blood run cold. The library...he’d thrown something out in the library last night. He wouldn’t describe it as a love letter but what if-- No, it couldn’t be. He’d know if he’d written a love letter right? He may be oblivious at times but he’s not stupid. He’s not stupid right? Oh Goddess, what if he’s stupid?

“Sylvain, may I see the letter?” Ashe asks with a sort of forced politeness he has a habit of putting on when he’s trying not to appear nervous. This in the end is never successful as he also has a habit of speaking in a much higher tone when he’s nervous which completely gives himself away. But it doesn’t matter in the end because there’s no way he could possibly assure himself that the letter wasn’t his without getting nervous and _he has to make sure_. Well actually he doesn’t but he doubts the swarm of butterflies that had recently entered his stomach would ever go away if he didn’t make sure. 

If Sylvain noticed Ashe’s change in demeanor he didn’t show it, still smiling as he hands the younger boy the crumpled up piece of parchment in his hands. Ashe’s hands tremble ever so slightly as he reaches for the letter. His heart promptly drops into the pit of his stomach as he immediately recognizes the slightly messy handwriting upon the paper. Just as he feared, it’s his own handwriting. But how did Sylvain find it? Well Sylvain literally said how he found it so the real question is why did he think it was a love letter?

In fairness it had been obscenely late ( to the point where he likely would’ve gotten in trouble for being out of his dorm after curfew if he were caught ) when he wrote said letter so he doesn’t remember exactly what he wrote and quite frankly he’s afraid to actually read the letter lest he look as mortified as his highness a few feet away from him. But Ashe can feel Sylvain’s eyes on him as he blankly stares at the parchment and he knows he’s expecting some kind response so with a heavy heart and a nauseous stomach he reads. Well he reads until he gets to a certain point and the butterflies in his stomach rustle so violently that Ashe thinks he’ll throw up. 

He’s not reading anymore as his eyes hastily scope the rest of the paper, he’s merely making sure he hadn’t signed his name before tossing out the letter. As he reaches the bottom of the page he has his first wave of relief all morning as he finds that he’d stopped mid-sentence towards the end and thankfully never signed the letter. 

Ashe looks up from the parchment to see Sylvain smirking at him. His face grows slightly warm under the other’s scrutinous gaze. Ashe wonders if he knows. It would not take much to tie the letter to himself; just a quick look at any of his class assignments would prove the handwriting could only be his. In that case why doesn’t Sylvain just pull the trigger and out him? Could it be that Sylvain, despite Ashe’s own beliefs, actually has a heart? Is he actually a good person under all that shamelessness and philandering? But the thought leaves his mind instantly when Sylvain winks at him. 

“S- Someone threw this out?” Ashe almost winces when he hears his own voice wobble nervously, “I’m sure they didn’t mean for his h-- Dimitri to end up seeing it. Shouldn’t we put it back?” 

Sylvain looks like he’s about to say something but is stopped when Dimitri steps forward and speaks for the first time since Ashe had joined. “Yes, Ashe I agree.” Ashe nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels a steel grip on his shoulder. His eyes dart to the gauntlet now placed on his shoulder, his gaze moving to the owner of said gauntlet shortly thereafter. Dimitri looks a little more relaxed than he had been a few moments ago, his cheeks no longer flushed as he sends an irritated look in Sylvain’s direction. “I believe it’s cruel to mock such heartfelt confessions, especially if the writer had no intention of me seeing it.”

Ashe feels his chest growing tight, his heart beating so fast and so loud he wonders if Dimitri could hear it. His stomach twists painfully as struggles to breathe normally. He’s unsure if his intense anxiousness comes from Dimitri’s words or the closeness between them as the prince holds Ashe’s shoulder in his strong hand. Ashe thinks he very well throw up any moment now, anxious to leave the premises before he humiliates himself further. 

In a sudden wave of strength Ashe wrestles himself out of Dimitri’s grip. This is not necessarily a difficult feat despite his highness’ immense strength as his hold on Ashe was quite gentle. Yet still as he jerks himself away he feels winded and lightheaded. “I- I just remembered there’s something I need to do,” he says weakly, already heading towards the open doorway. 

Dimitri’s gaze follows him, a concerned look on his face. “Ashe, are you well? You look rather flushed.”

“I’m fine!” Ashe squeaks out a little too hastily, “--Think I might be coming down with something.”

Dimitri takes a step toward him and Ashe, causing the archer to take a hasty step back. Unfortunately for Ashe he happens to slam himself against one of the work desks they use for class. He lets out a pained yelp before stumbling. He nearly falls to the floor but is saved when a pair of strong hands catch him by the shoulders. Dimitri’s grip is stronger now. Ashe feels as if he’ll crumple up into a ball like the letter he wrote under the weight of the prince’s hands.

However the forcefulness of his grip is met with a gentle gaze as Dimitri meets Ashe’s eyes. Something about it makes Ashe even more anxious. Whether it be the compassion and concern in the other’s expression or the way Dimitri’s brilliant blue eyes seem to search him he doesn’t know. Ashe had thought he’d gotten better about acting casual around him but he supposes not. 

“Ashe, are you certain you’re alright? I can escort you to the infirmary if you’d like.”

“N- No!” Ashe again moves to free himself from Dimitri’s grip. This time it takes more effort but he does manage to get away, stumbling slightly as he rises to his feet. “I mean-- Thank you, your highness. I appreciate the offer but I don’t think that’s necessary. I think I just need to lie down for a while.”

Dimitri’s brow furrows. His gaze is still searching as he tries to meet Ashe’s gaze before the younger hastily darts his eyes away. Had Ashe been looking at him he would have noticed the slightly hurt look Dimitri wears before quickly shifting his expression to appear more neutral and placid. “Very well. I will inform the professor the reason for your absence. Please get some rest.” 

Ashe merely nods before swiftly exiting the room and darting into the courtyard. He’s finding it difficult to breathe as he feverishly scurries back toward the dormitories. In his nervous haste he again loses sight of his own footing and finds himself running headlong into a dark figure. Ashe lets out a gasp as gloved hands reach for his back. 

“Professor!” Ashe gasps as his wide eyes meet glassy blue ones. Professor Byleth has always had a sort of blankness in their eyes, the sort of impression you’d get from a doll that always had its eyes on you. It’s become less intense in the past few months and Ashe can honestly say he feels more comfortable in their company than he did before. But still there are times when the professor’s gaze unnerves him. This is one of those times.

Professor Byleth blinks, thin brows rising in surprise as they wordlessly help Ashe to their feet. They remain silent for a moment, merely casting their student a questioning look as Ashe attempts to calm himself down. Like Dimitri, Byleth’s gaze has the constant effect of searching only theirs is about tenfold the amount his highness has. To the point where Ashe feels compelled to spill his guts out here and now. It’s a strange feeling in truth as he’s never had that experience with anyone before. 

“I’m fine,” he says once the professor’s stare becomes too overwhelming. The statement is a lie and an unconvincing one at that ( He’s never been a good liar, especially when he’s nervous ). “I just feel a little under the weather, that’s all.” 

“You look panicked.” Byleth’s voice is cool and relaxed as it always is. Ashe tends to find it soothing, especially in times of battle and he needs something to ground him. The professor whether intentionally or not seemed to always have the air that everything was going to be okay. Or maybe that’s just how Ashe wanted to interpret them as someone who is so frequently troubled by the things around him. Even still he does feel a little unnerved by Byleth’s ability to read him so easily. 

“Is it that obvious?” Ashe says sighing. 

Byleth nods, a sort of pitying expression on their features. Ashe finds himself for the first time wishing that the professor had not begun to be more expressive in recent months. He doesn’t want to be pitied. He wants to go back and time so he can never write that letter. But unfortunately the professor nor anyone else can help him with that. 

“I sort of made a fool of myself just now.” He doesn’t know why he feels compelled to admit these things to the professor. Maybe it’s the soothing way they speak or the sort of ethereal, all knowing look in their eyes. Ashe has always trusted them, even in the early days when he found their overall demeanor unsettling. Therefore he trusts them with this embarrassing secret. “I wrote a...erm, _love letter_ for his highness last night.” His voice steadily gets more hurried and frantic as he speaks, eager to get the words out so he can never speak of it again. “I threw it away but Sylvain found it and showed it to everyone in class. I didn’t put my name on it but it must be obvious now. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” 

Professor Byleth looks at him pensively, perhaps deciding what to say. After a moment they put a comforting hand on Ashe’s shoulder, looking at him sympathetically before replying, “Deal with it.” With that they walk away, leaving Ashe utterly bewildered with how to process that response. But bewildered is better than panicked so perhaps the professor helped after all. 

Ashe sighs, pulling his hood over his head and shoving his hands into his pockets as he continues to walk back to the dormitories. He walks slower now, less anxious to make a getaway from everything. His shoulders slump as he moves, contemplating the last fifteen minutes or so ( It’s strange to think of it as that short. It feels as if hours have passed since he first left his dorm room ).

A love letter? Had Ashe written a love letter? Everyone seemed to think it was a love letter. Yet isn’t his real intentions what defines whether his letter is a love letter or not? Though he supposes that hardly matters when the letter is presented without the intention or the identity of the writer. Nobody knows for certain it was Ashe who wrote it save for himself and now the professor. Yet that doesn’t quell the uneasiness in his heart and the nauseousness in his stomach. Truthfully he doesn’t know what will at this point. He’s mainly concerned with ruining his friendship with Dimitri over this when he’s worked so hard to please him and do as he’d asked of him. 

Wait. 

A thought occurs to Ashe, unbidden and entirely unwanted but it’s there and there’s nothing he can do about it. Could it be that he’s come to hold...feelings for his highness? No, he couldn’t have. He would know if he did, surely. The way it had been described in the books he’d read it’s such a powerful force that it’s impossible not to know. But then again...Ashe has never been in love before. In love? No, no that’s a step too far. It’s probably just a crush. Not that he’s ever had one of those either. Never had the friends or anybody around him to have one. Incredible, his first crush and he’s chosen the worst person imaginable to have it on. Not that he has a crush...of course not. 

He finally reaches his room and hastily shuffles inside. He’s going to bed. Nevermind that he woke up less than an hour ago. Truthfully he wonders if this all isn’t some elaborate nightmare brought on by too little sleep and too many sweets eaten the night before. In any case he’s going to go back to sleep and hopefully everything will go back to normal when he wakes up. 

It did not. 

* * *

Ashe wakes up a few hours later to a polite knock at his door. He immediately regrets his nap as he rises to his feet and feels his drowsiness take over him. He feels as if he’s slept for several days or just recently taken on a demonic beast. He hardly has any recollection of everything that had happened before. Well that is until he opens the door to see the crown prince of Faerghus on his doorstep and subsequently has everything hurled back into his face like a bucket of ice water. 

“Your highness!--” This time he does wince at the sound of his own nervous voice. Can he go back to bed and have a do over? “W- What are you doing here?” 

Dimitri gives him one of those pleasant smiles he often wears, the ones that don’t quite meet his eyes and seem to be just put on for appearances. “Hello, Ashe. Since you seemed insistent on not being taken to the infirmary, I thought I’d check up on you after class concluded to see if you were in better shape than this morning.”

This kind of behavior is not out of the ordinary for Dimitri. His highness has always been exceptionally compassionate and thoughtful. It’s something Ashe has always admired and respected ( and perhaps something else that he’d rather not think about ) him for. He’s been on the receiving end of this kind of random act of kindness from Dimitri many times before. Each time he feels more embarrassed and awkward with the other’s actions than the last. Though no other occurrence can compare to how mortified he is now. 

This is to put it bluntly, entirely Ashe’s fault. Had he not written that letter last night and subsequently was made aware of his apparent feelings for Dimitri none of this would have happened. Come to think of it, why had he originally wanted to write that letter? It had been so late when he’d written it ( to the point where he’s almost certain he didn’t finish writing it because he’d fallen asleep in the library ). He always loses about half of his good judgement when sleep deprived. Perhaps that’s why his letter came out so unabashedly honest. But he’d only been intending to express how appreciative he was of Dimitri’s aid in the practice battle earlier that week but somehow gone wax poetic about the greatness of Dimitri’s character and how much he cherishes his company. 

Remind him not to stay up late in the library anymore, or eat sweets past eleven. 

“That’s very kind of you, your highness but I promise you that’s not necessary.” Ashe is tone is relatively relaxed albeit by force. At least he’s not stammering or wheezing this time. Though notably he’s feeling his face heat up again. Dimitri’s gaze feels akin to the sun’s rays on a hot summer day, so intense, so warm. Ashe finds it difficult to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time, which is rather unusual for him as he doesn’t ordinarily have trouble holding eye contact with people.

Maybe he does have a crush. 

“Nonsense. It would not do well to allow any of my friends to fall ill under my watch.”

“Maybe so but I don’t want you wasting your time checking up on me. I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to.”

Dimitri takes a step forward and instinctively Ashe takes a step backward. Thankfully there’s no desk behind him this time for him to trip over. “It’s not a waste. I’d be more at ease knowing you were alright.”

Foolishly Ashe decides then to meet Dimitri’s gaze. He’s then immediately overwhelmed by the earnestness in the prince’s eyes, the undeniable sincerity in his words and frankly just by Dimitri altogether. Something about this entire scenario reminds him of scenes in the books he’s read where the gallant and handsome knight aids the people to no gain of his own. Dimitri can very easily be described as such. Not only that but he’s a direct descendent of Loog the King of Lions, the main character of his favorite Faerghus legends. Loog had always been described as striking and dashing. Ashe wonders if he was comparable to Dimitri in that way...probably not. 

He can’t imagine how anyone could be of greater character than his highness. Dimitri is so selflessly kind, so brave and strong. And that’s not even taking his looks into account. Not that Ashe cares about superficial things like that. But he’s not blind either. Anyone could see that his highness was handsome. The sort of refined beauty one would expect from someone of royal blood. Noteworthy features like his high cheekbones and golden hair, his brilliant blue eyes, his--

Oh no. 

“Ashe, are you alright?” 

Dimitri’s voice snaps him back into the present, eyes wide as he blinks rapidly. How long had he spaced out? Ashe had met Dimitri’s gaze a few moments ago ( or longer? He has no concept of time at present. ) and then his mind started wandering. Oh this is not good, not good at all. 

“Wh-- Oh, yes! I’m fine, Dimitri.” Ashe feels his face warm further, heartily embarrassed at being caught daydreaming. “I just lost my head for a moment.”

“Lost your head?” Dimitri’s question is spoken with a slight tilt of his head as he looks at him quizzically. Ashe is at once reminded of the dogs residing at the monastery he frequently spends time with. One might say the resemblance is rather endearing, cute even. 

Wait, no. He can’t do this. Ashe can’t allow himself to entertain the thought of his highness being cute or handsome or anything outside of respectable and regal. It’s inappropriate. People of Ashe’s stature can normally only dream of being in the presence of a prince as often as he does. He’s fortunate enough just to call himself a friend to his highness and even that has been difficult for him to come to terms with. Even daydreaming about Dimitri in this context is completely out of the question. In any case Ashe wouldn’t even have the slightest chance in pursuing someone like his highness. So entertaining such ideas is all for naught. Besides, Ashe values his friendship with Dimitri a great deal. He’d rather not risk destroying it. So therefore he will proceed to crush this crush by any means necessary.

“Uh, yes…” Ashe says uncertainly, “Just got a little lightheaded, that’s all.” 

“Is that so?” Dimitri asks, looking pensive as he raises a hand to hold his chin. “Could you perhaps be feeling lightheaded due to a fever?”

Ashe is about to protest when Dimitri removes his gauntlet and reaches toward the archer. Ashe has never seen Dimitri without his gauntlets as far as he can recall. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s seen him show any skin save for his neck and face. His highness constantly remains almost completely covered up. He always keeps his gauntlets on when training, when eating and when studying. Ashe can only assume Dimitri removes them to sleep. Wait now he’s thinking about Dimitri sleeping. Go back, go back, go back--

Dimitri’s skin is incredibly pale, paler than Ashe’s even and he’s paler than most. Ashe can only describe his highness’ hand as ghostly as it nears his freckled face. He again takes another step backward due to his own habitual wariness of being touched. He blames his years on the streets for this particular instinct of his. The constant habit of staying vigilant has not left him all these years even when he knows that life is far behind him. Regardless of his own tendencies of hypervigilance, Ashe knows he can trust Dimitri. There’s very few people he trusts more than Dimitri at this point. Ashe trusts Dimitri more than he trusts himself quite frankly. Though now that trust is marred ever so slightly by _whatever it is_ that Ashe feels for him. 

It would seem Ashe’s luck has run out as this time when he backs away he knocks the back of his head against his half open door. Dimitri, ever the knight in shining armor springs forward with both bare and cover hands. His gauntlet baren hand finds the back of Ashe’s head, cradling it as his other hand cups his cheek. 

“Ashe?” Dimitri’s eyes are wide, brows knitted together as he inspects the younger for any sign of damage. Now Ashe _definitely_ feels lightheaded, close to fainting as he stares wide eyed at his highness like he were a predator cornering Ashe, the prey. 

“Your high— I..um, thank you.” 

So much for not stammering. 

Dimitri’s expression softens, a small concerned smile on his lips as he quickly glances over the entirety of Ashe’s flushed face. “You really must be careful, Ashe. You’ll end up in far worse shape if you constantly give yourself self inflicted injuries.” Ashe opens his mouth to speak but is stopped when Dimitri moves his bare hand from his cheek to his forehead, likely trying to figure out his temperature. 

Dimitri’s hand feels like ice against Ashe’s skin. Whether it be because of his increasingly warm face or his highness’ natural temperature Ashe doesn’t know. Nor can he really think about it for more than a fraction of a second as the entirety of his thoughts have been consumed by Dimitri, the closeness of him and the way his hand feels against his face. He’s doing an awful job at not thinking about this crush, isn’t he? 

“Ashe, you’re burning up. I really do think we ought to take you to the infirmary.” 

“But-- !”

“Not another word.” 

Dimitri’s voice is firm as he places his pale hand back into his gauntlet. Obediently Ashe closes his mouth at once. Still wanting to argue further but accepting it’s futile to do so at this point. Therefore he does not protest when Dimitri takes his hand and pulls him toward him. However he does end up protesting when he’s suddenly hoisted into the air and held in Dimitri’s strong arms.

“Your highness!” Ashe’s voice is little more than high pitched gasp. While he’s fairly sure he was red in the face before this, there’s not a doubt in his mind now that he’s completely flushed. “What are you doing!?” 

“Worry not, Ashe.” Dimitri speaks calmly. How he manages to be so composed and relaxed about things like this, Ashe will never know. “It will be easier to get you safely to the infirmary in short time this way.” This admittedly makes sense in retrospect to what Dimitri is aware of. Ashe is perfectly capable of walking himself ( save for perhaps some stumbling into doors and desks if under Dimitri’s influence ) as he’s positive he’s not actually sick. Dimitri on the other hand despite his many capabilities has not grasped this so it’s perfectly understandable for him to be concerned of Ashe’s ability to walk on his own, especially since in the last several hours he’s been seen blundering into things.

At any rate before Ashe can protest further he’s being carried off across the monastery grounds. With the sudden movement he instinctively throws his arms around Dimitri’s neck to stable himself. Ashe immediately regrets this decision as he becomes overwhelmingly aware of how close their proximity is. Dimitri seems to have noticed it too as he tilts his head down to look at the other. Had Ashe not been so heartily embarrassed of meeting his highness’ gaze or even looking in his direction he would have noticed the expression of mixed surprise and confusion on the prince’s face. This look is accompanied by the very faintest blush across his cheeks. It wouldn’t really have made much difference for Ashe to be aware of this truthfully. But perhaps he would’ve been comforted by the fond smile Dimitri gives him before he continues onward. 

Ashe considers this whole ordeal utterly mortifying but at least he has his eyes shut now so he doesn’t have to think about other people looking at him and what sort of things they might be thinking. So he just lets out a sigh and hopes it’ll all be over soon. Somehow in the few minutes since Dimitri carried him off, Ashe finds himself lulling back into a state of sleep. Perhaps it’s his own desire to again lose consciousness and forget today, perhaps it’s how warm and safe he feels in Dimitri’s arms. Regardless of how or why it happens, Ashe does fall asleep and stays asleep when they arrive at the infirmary. So he does not see the tender look on Dimitri’s face as he lays Ashe down carefully on a vacant cot, nor is he aware of the lingering looks the prince gives him as he mulls over what to do now. However even if he’s not completely aware of it, when Dimitri reaches down and gently brushes a strand of hair away from Ashe’s face, the sleeping boy makes a soft little mumble that almost _, almost_ sounds like, “Dimitri.”

* * *

Ashe wakes up not where he expects to be, not in an infirmary cot, not in his soft dormitory bed, but on the hard earth under the morning sun. Ah, he’d been dreaming again. Well does it really count as a dream if it really happened? Maybe he’d just been daydreaming of his academy days again just this time his eyes were closed. But none of that really matters anymore. His academy days are over, have been over for a few years now. Dimitri is long gone and yet here Ashe is still lingering on his memory. Then again Ashe has never been one who was good with goodbyes, especially the ones he wasn’t able to make. 

It’s foolish, isn’t it? Carrying a torch for a dead man, a dead man who truthfully he never had a chance with. But that’s what he’s doing. That’s what he’s been doing ever since he wrote that stupid letter. It all feels so silly to him now, even sillier than it was to him when he was a boy. Yet in the end it’s the silliness, the lighthearted and simple memories that make his life today a little more bearable. That’s what’s important isn’t it? Holding onto the things that make life worth living. Even if Dimitri, _his first love_ , his only love is gone, Ashe can still hold onto his memory to help himself carry on in this brutal war. 

After all in the end love is what drives him more than anything else this world has to offer, the love of his family, the love of his friends and the love of his country. And it is **love** he holds for the late prince he realizes now. How inconvenient that he’d not realized until it was too late, until the news broke out of Dimitri’s execution. The way his heart ached, the way it had shattered in a million little pieces… It was different, different than all the other times he’d lost someone dear to him. Not more painful, not less, just different. The difference being the kind of love he held for his highness, the kind that he’s never felt before, the kind he wonders he’ll live long enough to experience again. 

The year is 1183. The war has been going on for two years now and likely will go on for many more the way things are looking. Ashe has never cared for violence and battle. Something most would find ironic considering his dream of being a knight. But that’s just how it is. He finds it all incredibly difficult to stomach, the way an enemy crumples to the ground at his feet, the way his heart pounds in his chest as he fears for his life, the blood on his hands he can never quite wash off. Sometimes when it all gets too much he wonders if he would have been better off dying before the war started. Then he could be with Dimitri…

But he can’t die, not yet, not when people are counting on him. The rebellion forces against the empire grow smaller every day. He’s already had to abandon his position at House Rowe due to Rowe defecting to the empire. Ashe has to stay strong for as long as he can. He has no other choice at this point. War is inherently a do or die situation at all times and Ashe has no intention of dying just yet.

There’s a rustling in the grass beside him and suddenly there’s a wet nose in his face and coarse fur in his eyes. The dog gives Ashe an affectionate lick across his cheek, causing the man to laugh as he rises from the ground. “Okay, Gildy I’m up,” he chuckles, giving the bloodhound a gentle scratch behind the ears. In response Gildy wags her tail, her single brown eye looking at him intently. Once at his feet, Ashe moves to clean up his campsite, Gildy following him in tow. 

In the last several months Ashe has become somewhat of a vagrant, never staying in one place and relying on mercenary work to provide for himself. It’s not an ideal situation. Well, nothing about this war is ideal. It’s cruel, cold and ugly. But there’s nothing he can do right now except do his best to carry on. Which is what he’s doing now and what he’ll be doing until the war ends or until he’s lying dead on the battlefield. 

Ashe shivers as he trails onward away from his now cleared campsite, Gildy eagerly following. Gautier territory is a great deal colder than what he’s familiar with. This is to be expected considering it’s a great deal north and he’s always been in the southernmost region of Faerghus. In fact it’s the first time he’s ever been so far north. He’s traveled a few times to Fraldarius along with his classmates back at the academy but not further than that. But he had to come. He can’t very well abandon a friend in need, not even one he hasn’t spoken to in years.

Admittedly Ashe was surprised to receive word from Sylvain. He figured someone like him would have more important things to think about to think of him. Especially considering Sylvain’s practically leading the defense in his territory. But maybe that’s why he thought to send for Ashe. When you’re on your own like that, you need all the help you can get. And help he shall. Help however he can. Truthfully, he’s a little excited to see Sylvain again. It’s been so long since he’s seen any of his friends from the academy. There’s something inherently comforting to see a familiar face beside you in times of war, even a face that has many a time caused Ashe great distress. 

Appearance wise Sylvain hasn’t changed much. His face is sharper now, finally outgrowing the softness in his cheeks. He’s grown out his hair, his bangs no longer hanging over his eyes which have not changed. Sylvain’s eyes have always been surprisingly soft considering the rest of his appearance and his person altogether. Yet even so there often is a mischievous twinkle in his doe like eyes and the air that he always knows more than he lets on. Which frankly is very likely to be true. As a boy Ashe had been foolish enough to believe Sylvain nothing more than a philanderer. He knows better now. 

“Hey, you’ve gotten taller.” Sylvain’s voice is warm and lighthearted. While Ashe still isn’t completely certain that the other’s smiles are sincere, he feels comforted all the same. So much in fact that he pulls Sylvain into a hug. Sylvain stiffens into the embrace at first, seemingly surprised by the affection given. After a moment he relaxes, giving Ashe a squeeze as he returns the hug. He rests his head on Ashe’s shoulder before murmuring softly. “Glad to see you too, buddy.”

This time Ashe knows Sylvain is sincere. 

Sylvain leads him back toward their camp at the border of Gautier and Fraldarius territories. The pair of men sit and talk, catching up on everything each other had missed in the two years since they departed. As they talk and occasionally share the comfort each other’s silence, Ashe thinks that he’s never felt closer to Sylvain than at this moment. It’s a funny thought considering how the war has driven everyone further apart. But Ashe thinks it would have been difficult for either of them to speak so candidly with each other back when they were students. 

Ashe is about to suggest they begin preparations for dinner when the sound of a loud bird squawk overhead breaks his train of thought. The bird, a large and particularly disheveled looking barn owl lands itself atop Ashe’s shoulder. The owl, gently nibbles at Ashe’s ear before dropping a dirty looking scroll into his lap. Across from him Sylvain chuckles as Ashe searches for some kind of treat to reward the creature with. He finds a half eaten sugar cookie in his coat pocket and offers it. The bird appears grateful as it nuzzles him affectionately before flying off with the cookie in its beak. At his side, Gildy makes a soft huff evidently disappointed she had not been given the cookie. 

“You expecting something?” Sylvain asks as Ashe unrolls the scroll. 

“Not particularly.” The only people who write him regularly are his siblings and it’s too soon to receive word from them considering he just wrote back to them last night. The scroll itself is peculiar too, worn and covered in what looks like dried blood in places. Frankly, Ashe is a little scared to read what the contents may be. He doesn’t have the stomach to receive news of another death in his life. 

However he swallows his fears and reads on. 

* * *

_Ashe,_

_I don’t know how long it’s been, but I feel the same. I wanted to tell you. I didn’t know how. So I wrote this._

* * *

The handwriting of the letter is rushed and almost entirely illegible. Yet somehow it feels familiar in a way. Ashe can’t place it however, nor does he understand the meaning behind the letter. Had the letter not had his own name on it, he’d perhaps question if he was the desired intendant of the letter. The whole thing is entirely unsettling. The message isn’t signed either so he hasn’t an inkling of who could’ve been wanting to write to him.

_I feel the same…_

What is that supposed to mean? The writer speaks with such a familiarity towards Ashe that he’s sure he must have known them. Yet the writing and the letter itself is so incoherent, that he doesn’t have the slightest idea of its intentions nor its writer. 

Ashe’s hands tremble slightly as he curls the letter up once more. Sylvain raises an eyebrow at him, a slightly concerned expression on his face. “You okay, Ashe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“G- Ghost?-- It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Nothing?”

“ _Nothing_.”

Sylvain doesn’t seem entirely convinced judging by his expression. But thankfully he doesn’t press onward, giving Ashe one of those disingenuous smiles the younger recalls vividly from their academy days. Sylvain rises to his feet, earning a curious wag of the tail from Gildy as he moves toward their bundles of supplies. “You hungry? Thinking we should probably start dinner soon.”

“That sounds good to me.” Ashe gives him a halfhearted smile before getting up as well. “Just let me do the cooking, okay?”

Sylvain laughs. 

* * *

What do you do when a miracle happens? What do you do when the one you loved, the one you lost, the one you mourned turns up alive? What do you do when that same person has changed so drastically that you wonder if he really is alive at all? These are all questions Ashe has asked himself since returning to Garreg Mach.

It’s not that he’s not thrilled that Dimitri is back. Dimitri being back is something he couldn’t have expected in his wildest dreams, something better than the things in his wildest dreams. However that doesn’t make it any less rattling seeing him again, nor does it make it less difficult to adjust to him being alive and being...so different. 

When Ashe first comes face to face with Dimitri at the monastery he tries to give him a hug. However before he gets close enough Dimitri puts a strong hand on his shoulder, causing him to stop at a dead halt. “Leave me be,” is all he says before roughly pushing him aside and walking deeper into the cathedral. Ashe watches him go, hand touching the sore spot his shoulder where Dimitri had grabbed him. The prince’s grasp on him was stronger than it had been before, like he’s not holding back his immense strength. Ashe thinks his shoulder will be aching for a while. However he doubts it will ache as long or as painfully as his heart. 

“There’s no use going after him.” The sudden voice behind him makes Ashe jump. He hadn’t realized someone else had been present. He cringes at the thought of someone else seeing him so brutally rejected. He turns to see Felix, whose gaze also lies at Dimitri’s departing form. There’s an indistinguishable expression on the swordsman’s face. The most Ashe can describe it as pensive. 

“I’m sorry?” 

Felix shakes his head, his eyes moving away from Dimitri to look at him. “The boar has given in to his blood lust. Trying to speak to him in this state is pointless.” Ashe is about to further question the other man but Felix speaks again as he turns to exit the cathedral. “Do as you wish. Just know you’re wasting your breath.” With that he exits, leaving Ashe alone to contemplate his advice.

Dimitri and Felix’s relationship has always confused him, even back during their academy days-- especially during their academy days. They seemed to hate each other or rather Felix held a seemingly unfounded hatred for Dimitri. Yet the way they would sometimes speak to each other; it was like they knew something no one else did, like they were the only people in the room. They often gave the impression that no one in this whole world knew their true selves except each other. 

If Ashe were more of an honest man ( which is saying something because he is an incredibly honest man ) he would perhaps admit that it’s made him jealous many a time, more than he’d like to say. What he wouldn’t give to have someone he had a lifelong bond with, even if it is estranged as Dimitri and Felix’s seems to be. It’s the one thing that sets him apart, that’s always set him apart from everyone here. He’s an outsider, a common born orphan that prior to his adoption and the academy had no experience with high society life. He bears no crest nor noble title and he’s certain that if it came between him or any of his former classmates he would not be the one chosen nor the one saved. 

Yet in two moons’ time he is. 

It’s hard for him to remember it all so clearly. All he remembers undoubtedly is the fire, the fiery pits of Ailell, the fire that burns in the open wound at his abdomen. He can’t breathe, he can’t see. He can’t feel anything except for the fire. 

If he were in a better state he’d perhaps laugh at the irony of dying at the hand of Lord Gwendal. Lord Gwendal, the man he’d served just four years ago, the man he detested with every fiber of his being. Lord Gwendal is perhaps the biggest reason Ashe doesn’t believe all knights are good and just. Gwendal is a man without honor, without compassion. He’s a poor excuse for a knight and a poor excuse for a man. But it’s Gwendal, the bitter and cruel old man that will outlive him as Ashe lay dying on the volcanic floor. 

It’s always scared him, the idea of dying. He’s come to be familiar with death, meeting the grim reaper frequently since he was a child. But no matter how used he is to the cold skeletal hands that reach for him, he does not find comfort in death’s embrace. He cowers and panics in it, fearing of losing his chance to live the better life he’s always wanted. Yet even so he always knew it would end like this. As much as he dreams of a life after the war, living in a little cottage and spending the rest of his days without fear of dying the next day-- He knows it’s just that...a dream. But all dreams must die eventually. It’s time for him to wake up and leave this world behind him. 

As his vision blurs further he contemplates perhaps closing his eyes and letting himself go for once in his life. But then the earth starts spinning and he’s lifted into the air and held in a very familiar pair of arms. For so many years Ashe thought he’d never get to feel his highness’ embrace again. Even when he had returned Ashe still doubted it. How great and wonderful it is that he gets to spend his last moments in Dimitri’s arms, the very thing Ashe has wanted to do ever since he first left them over five years ago.

Ashe’s energy is all but completely drained. Yet as he slowly feels himself lose consciousness, he nestles himself into Dimitri’s arms, leaning into his chest as he lets out an exhausted sigh. “D-Dim..” his voice is practically inaudible, weak and muffled against Dimitri’s chest as he tries to speak. What he intends to say depends entirely on whatever jumbled string of words leaves his lips first. There’s many things Ashe would like to say to him, words of thanks for saving him, an apology for getting hurt, a plea to leave him to die and save himself--

Maybe even a confession of love.

“Quiet.” Dimitri’s voice almost, _almost_ sounds gentle. It feels like the ghost of the prince Ashe met at the academy so many years ago has come to visit him at long last. “Don’t waste your breath. We’ll be there soon.”

Ashe knows the Dimitri with him now is not the one he once knew, not the one he fell in love with. Yet once more he finds himself feeling safe and warm within his arms. Maybe it’s the nostalgia, maybe it’s his injury induced deliriousness or maybe Ashe just wants to pretend that things are back to the way they used to be. In any case once more he allows himself to fall asleep in the protective arms of his highness. 

This time Dimitri is not there in the infirmary with him when he wakes up. 

* * *

Ashe is in the infirmary for a good week after that, a two weeks more until he’s able to train and fight the way he used to. He’s always hated getting injured; he hated being in any situation where he’d be less useful to his comrades. In fact, in the weeks following the battle at Ailell, Ashe became so restless and eager to begin training that Professor Manuela prescribed him a soothing herb that would keep him drowsy and too tired to train for an extended period of time. Initially he was irritated by this, but eventually Ashe came to accept that he in fact does not have his own best interest at heart. 

On the 18th of the Lone Moon Ashe finally has the strength ( along with the permission ) to move about the monastery on his own. He spends most of the day reading in the courtyard and tending to the various animals residing in the monastery ( Ashe’s bloodhound Gildy included as he’s taken her with him ). In the afternoon he decides it’s time to go into the cathedral. Now that he’s actually conscious he feels obligated to speak to Dimitri, to thank him for saving his life. His slow footsteps echo against the cracked marble floors of the cathedral. Dimitri does not say a word as Ashe steps beside him, nor does he acknowledge that the other is there at all. 

“Your highness?” 

Silence. 

“...Dimitri?”

“Mhm?”

“I...wanted to thank you for what you did at Ailell.” Dimitri again does not acknowledge Ashe’s presence so Ashe decides to continue onward. Might as well get everything off his chest even if his highness doesn’t care about what he has to say. “If you hadn’t found me when you did I don’t think I’d be here right now.” He pauses, eyes shifting to Dimitri’s face, desperate to find something in his expression. Ashe used to think he was good at reading people but these days he feels like he doesn’t know anyone at all anymore. 

“You saved my life...You didn’t have to but you did and for that I am in your d--”

“Enough.”

Ashe blinks. “What?”

“Don’t waste your breath on blatherings of gratitude.” For the first time since arriving Dimitri turns and looks at him. Ashe is immediately taken by the prince, captivated by the intense stony gaze of his single eye. Their gazes lock and Ashe’s eyes widen as he stares at his prince in expectant silence. 

“If we are to attack on Enbarr we must have as many in our numbers as possible.”

Oh.

“I see,” Ashe’s voice holds a quiet disheartenment as he speaks, frowning as he physically feels his heart sink into his stomach. It seems once again he’s forgotten which Dimitri he’s talking to. “Erm...very well,” he sighs, turning away from Dimitri to stare blankly at the destroyed altar before them. “Regardless whatever your intentions may be, I’m grateful for what you did for me...Thank you, Dimitri.”

Dimitri does not respond save for a quiet grunt. Ashe takes it as a you’re welcome as well as a sign that he ought to get going. So he leaves without another word, his footsteps as heavy as his heart as he steps out of the cathedral. As he moves his heart pleads for him to turn back, to spare another look at the fallen prince who unknowingly holds his heart. But he doesn’t. He keeps a straight face as he leaves, forcing his gaze forward as he makes his way outside.

In the distance church bells start ringing.

* * *

The morning after their celebration of Dimitri’s return to Fhirdiad Ashe eats alone in one of the royal dining rooms. Most of the others haven’t awaken yet or are simply lingering in their chambers. It feels...odd, dwelling in a place so luxurious and refined. Even in the disheveled state the palace is since the war, it’s far more extravagant than anything Ashe has ever experienced. Again it is a reminder how little he fits in where he is. It doesn’t bother him so much as it used to. Though there still is that ache of loneliness in the back of his chest when he thinks about the distance that still lies between himself and the ones he loves. 

“His majesty wishes to speak with you.”

Ashe looks up from his bowl of oatmeal, raising a brow as he faces a royal guard looking at him expectantly. Immediately he rises to his feet, abandoning his half finished breakfast as he follows the guard back into a far corner of the castle. It’s likely he’ll grow hungry soon due to this hasty exit but Ashe is not thinking with his stomach, nor is he thinking with his brain. 

He is wholly and completely thinking with his heart. 

When Ashe enters the king’s office, he takes a moment to survey the room. It’s perhaps the largest office he’s ever seen, as big as the library at Garreg Mach...maybe even bigger. Though the room is undoubtedly beautiful, furnished with the best money can buy; Ashe’s gaze does not linger on it. Very quickly do his eyes find Dimitri, leaning over a desk in the center of the room. Judging by his lack of response his majesty had not heard Ashe come in. As the archer draws nearer his brows furrow as he notices the exhaustion evident on his majesty’s face. 

A few moments after he reaches the desk, Ashe decides to cough quietly to get Dimitri’s attention. Dimitri immediately stiffens, eyes widening as his gaze meets Ashes. To the archer’s surprise he sees a light blush appearing on the king’s cheeks. That’s odd...Ashe doesn’t think he’s seen Dimitri blush before. Not since-- Not since that day at the academy with the letter. Wow it’s been a while since he’s thought about that.

“Ah, Ashe! My apologies, I hadn’t realized you’d come in.”

“You wished to speak with me?” 

Dimitri moves from his desk, stepping beside Ashe before putting a hand on his shoulder. There’s a weary sort of smile on his face and Ashe wonders how much the king slept the night prior...if he slept at all that is. Yet weak as it may be Ashe finds Dimitri’s smile disarming, feeling a sort of pang in his chest as he meets his majesty’s gaze. His face grows warm as his lips curl into a small smile.

“Yes, I did. I hope I didn’t wake you. I know it’s a little early.”

“You didn’t. Besides I don’t mind waking up a little earlier to see you.” Somehow this statement feels much more like a confession than he’d let on. His face goes from warm to hot as he hastily turns his head away in embarrassment. In the corner of his eye he sees Dimitri turn a darker shade of crimson. Goddess, why is he so obvious? 

There’s a moment of silence, a moment that seems to stretch for hours as Ashe chastises himself for not thinking before he speaks. Then Dimitri lets out an uncomfortable cough. “Yes, well erm...I’ll keep that in mind.” The king shuffles back to his desk, face still flushed as he leans over a large stack of papers at his desk. Ashe’s gaze slowly follows him, landing on the stack of papers. His curiosity is piqued as he tries to read the documents upside down. After a moment he decides to tilt his head a little to be able to better read them. 

There’s something about the handwriting that’s familiar to him. Well obviously it’s familiar considering it’s Dimitri’s handwriting. But there’s something else, something that’s deep in the back of his mind that he just can’t quite recall. 

And then it hits him with the force of a violent demonic beast. 

The letter-- The letter from almost three years ago. But it couldn’t be...nobody had known the letter was written by him, nobody except himself and the professor. But-- There’s no other explanation is there? What else could that mysterious letter have meant? 

_I feel the same…_

He feels the same? Has...has Dimitri felt the same all this time? Before the war? Before everything? The thought seems inconceivable. The thought that Dimitri, strong Dimitri, brave Dimitri, overwhelmingly warm and kind Dimitri could ever feel that way for him..it doesn’t make sense. Yet what else is he supposed to believe from that letter? 

His heart is pounding in his chest, hands shaking as he watches Dimitri with wide eyes. Dimitri’s speaking now, something about the future of Gaspard and preparations that should be made should the empire try and take it. But Ashe can’t hear him. His thoughts are too loud, too frantic for him to comprehend what Dimitri’s saying. 

“Ashe, are you alright?”

He snaps back into the present, still shaking as he looks to see Dimitri looking over him with a soft kind of concern. Ashe had grown quite used to this look from the other man in the past though admittedly he has not seen it for several years now. Dimitri looks at him expectantly, gaze looking more worried by the second as Ashe gives no response. He can’t speak, he can’t breathe. All he can do is stare with wide eyes and a flushed face. “Ashe?” Dimitri asks again. This time the is worry prominent within his words. He steps from behind the desk, brows knitted together as he nears Ashe. As he moves something falls from within his cloak. Eager to not look at Dimitri, Ashe’s gaze follows it. 

On the floor at their feet is an incredibly worn and old looking piece of paper. In his concern over Ashe, Dimitri fails to notice the fallen item. Therefore Ashe decides to stoop down and pick up the parchment. His eyes are nervously avoiding Dimitri so he does not see the flash of panic in the other’s single blue eye as Ashe looks over the paper. Hence Ashe obliviously inspects the words written in faded ink. He can hardly make out the words given it’s clear age and the quality of the handwriting in general. However in his desire to distract himself from his own thoughts he reads. 

* * *

_Your highness,_

_This might seem strange given that we both live at the academy and we don’t really need to write each other letters. I just thought it might be easier to say what I want in a letter_ _~~as I always seem to have a stammering problem within your presence~~_ _. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for all your help these past few months. Your aid has helped me a great deal. Your aid not just in battle but aiding me in getting used to things at the monastery. We may not have known each other long but I can safely say you’ve made a great impact on my life. I daresay you will make a great king one day._

_I am quite grateful to have been able to meet you. Not just because you’re my future king but because of you as a person as well. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as kind and as honorable as yourself. I never thought in my wildest dreams I’d be able to call someone as wonderful as you my friend. You truly have become very dear to me and I care for you a great deal. I---_

* * *

Ashe’s blood runs cold as he scans the last line of the unfinished letter, **_his unfinished letter_ **. Why?...Why did Dimitri have this? After all these years, after a war and nearly dying countless times-- Why would he hold onto something so inconsequential? As far as Ashe was aware Dimitri didn't know the letter was from him. It was just a random affectionate letter that should’ve been thrown away a long time ago. 

“I can explain.” There’s a solemness in Dimitri’s tone. If Ashe didn’t know better he’d say the king sounded guilty. Not that Dimitri has any reason to be. Even if Ashe is confused ( and completely mortified ) Dimitri has every right to keep a letter meant for him. Ashe feels so tightly wound in his own nerves that he might burst as he meets the other’s gaze once more. 

Dimitri looks sheepish, face clearly flushed now as he looks down at Ashe. It’s strange; Ashe has never seen Dimitri look so shy before. Dimitri has always carried himself with the confidence and grace ( though the latter has been admittedly lacking in recent months ) that befits royalty. Yet here he is bashful like he were a young schoolboy. Ashe doesn’t know what to do with it. So he just stands there and waits for Dimitri to explain himself. 

“...I intended to throw out the letter after class that day but I was so worried about you running off it and being ill, I never took it out of my pocket. Over time I- I realized I didn’t want to throw it out. I’m sure you would know why.” He pauses, and Ashe notes the deep crimson spread across the other man's face. If Ashe had any ability to speak he’d ask Dimitri to tell him. It doesn’t matter if Ashe knows. He does know but he wants to hear Dimitri say it, say the words Ashe has been longing to hear for all these years. “So I kept it with me. During my absence I didn’t look at it much. But I remembered it at some point which you surmise where my own letter came from. I must apologize for my timing and methods as I--”

But Dimitri doesn’t finish his sentence and no one will ever know what he’d been intending to say. Because before Dimitri can get another word in Ashe has pulled him downward by the collar and kisses him. Admittedly it’s not a very good kiss. Both of them lack the experience to be good at this sort of thing. Perhaps that will change in due time. 

Their movements are clumsy, Dimitri initially going stiff as a board at the unexpected kiss. He’s achingly tentative as he responds, likely worrying about his immense strength and hurting Ashe. Not that Ashe cares at this point. He may seem fragile but he’s been hurt before, been broken before, more times than he can count. But this doesn’t feel like hurting. This feels like healing. 

Ashe raises a hand to weave his fingers into Dimitri’s golden hair. He gives the slightest of tugs to the other’s hair as a silent word of permission not to hold back. Dimitri follows suit as he moves his hands to Ashe’s waist, pulling the shorter closer to him. After a moment Dimitri gets braver and decides to bite at Ashe’s lip. Unfortunately, as he often does, Dimitri underestimates his own strength. Ashe gasps, his bottom lip bleeding profusely as he pulls away. 

“Oh, Ashe...I’m so terribly sorry. I should have been more caref--”

Dimitri stops himself as Ashe bursts into laughter. His whole body shakes with each laugh, completely ignoring the blood across his lips. The whole ordeal is so incredibly true to Dimitri and his character that Ashe can’t help it. Though a part of him thinks maybe the main source this laughter is the overwhelming relief of all this, that the Dimitri he’d loved was back and that he’d loved Ashe in return. It feels like it’s all just a wonderful dream. But this time he doesn’t want to wake up, not unless Dimitri is there beside him when he does. 

Quietly Dimitri begins to laugh too, unsure at first but eventually it’s as hearty and whole as Ashe’s. They stay like that for a while, just basking in the joy and silliness of this moment and of each other. 

* * *

“I think she likes you.” 

“Do you really think so? I must admit I’ve never spent much time with animals. But we do seem to get along well, don’t we?”

It’s the 23rd of the Horsebow Moon, Imperial year 1185. The war is over. Dimitri has been coronated and crowned the Savior King of Faerghus. Ashe has been knighted and assigned to his majesty’s personal guard. Not that this part is entirely necessary. As Dimitri’s consort, Ashe is about as personal as one can get to the king. However this factor in their relationship is not yet known to the general public and really only known by a few close friends. 

The pair of men are spending their afternoon in one of the royal gardens. Technically Ashe is supposed to be watching over his majesty as he attends to his duties. Which he is... _technically._ He’s watching over Dimitri as he attends to the duty of giving Lady Gildy the bloodhound an affectionate belly scratch. The king and knight smile and laugh in each other’s company. In this moment there is not a care in the world, no diplomatic affairs to attend to, no piles of paperwork, nothing except them and the happy dog at their feet. 

Sure there’s things pressing on in the back of their minds. The king can never rest or so they say. But both Dimitri and Ashe have allowed themselves to let it stay in the back of their minds. Even with the war over so rare is the chance for them to legitimately spend time together that they must savor it whenever they can. There will be time to focus on all their duties, all their troubles. There will be time to ask the lingering questions between them that have been left unsaid. There will be time to at last announce the nature of their relationship and celebrate with all of Fodlan. But right now this moment is for the two of them and no one else. 

So Ashe will cherish this moment for as long as he can and he will cherish his king as he rises to press a kiss to his cheek. Dimitri smiles, moving his free hand toward his knight and taking his hand into his own. Because he too cherishes this moment and cherishes his beloved.

**Author's Note:**

> [find me on twitter](https://twitter.com/lordlonato)


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